“Ed? Ed wake up! We need to talk outside.” It was Maxine’s voice, and she sounded unexpectedly excited. As I stood up, Maxine took my hand and led me outside, which was mercifully stench-free. I could hear Randall and Elvis speaking quickly, along with a braying sound that was completely unexpected.
“Is…is there a donkey out here?” I asked, fully aware of how stupid this question sounded.
“Yeah! And it brought all our stuff from the bus with it!”
“That ain’t all,” Elvis sounded amazed, “It brought this shiny-lookin’ amp along too. We were wonderin’ if it was yours, since it don’t belong to any of us.”
“Uh, I didn’t bring an amp with me,” I replied, “Just my guitar and my bag.” My weird dream suddenly came back to me.
“Wait. Let me touch the amp.” Maxine led me a few steps and placed my hands on the amp’s outer casing. Smooth like glass; grill like a surface covered in cool water. I let out an audible gasp.
“What is it?” Asked Randall inquisitively.
“This is going to sound nuts,” I began, “But I think this is some kind of weapon. I dreamed about it.” There was a moment of mutual silence. I could tell each person was trying very hard to deliver a reply. Elvis was the first to speak.
“Weapon? Against what? Old folks?” He didn’t seem convinced.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I had a dream last night, and this amp was in it.” Randall soon joined the conversation.
“Let’s just back up a bit,” He took a deep breath and continued, “First, do any of you find it strange that not only are we the only survivors from that damn bus, but that we’re all musicians? I mean, that crazy shit that went down last night brought us al together. Maybe there’s a reason for it that we don’t completely understand.”
“What’s to understand?” Elvis replied sharply, “Survival’s the name of the game now. We gotta start thinkin’ about what we’re gonna do for food and water and shit. I’ll be down with startin’ up a band with y’all right after we answer the important questions!” From here, the conversation deteriorated into a series of rhetorical questions and smug comebacks. A long, terrifyingly close scream ended the argument, however. Sweat coated my forehead as I began to notice a small, fiery blob taking shape in my field of vision.
